Twin Peril (7 page)

Mallory’s heart sank. If Jonah was right, they were in serious trouble.

* * *

Jonah could barely speak, he was so angry. He’d been betrayed by his boss! Finley was the one he’d called when someone had sneaked into his hospital room. Finley was the one who had ordered him to go after Mallory. And that story about no cops being available to relieve him was probably nothing more than a lie. Finley wanted him to stay put so he could send someone out to set the motel on fire.

Looking back, he realized how easily he’d been duped. Why would a boss send an injured cop out to keep a potential witness safe? If he’d been using the brain God gave him instead of relying on his emotions, he might have figured out Finley’s true motives a lot quicker.

Mallory tightened her arms around his waist, giving him a warm hug that he felt all the way to the depths of his soul. “I’m sorry, Jonah.”

He was amazed and humbled that she was trying to comfort him when he was the one who’d nearly gotten her killed. If not for the black Lab barking his head off, they might have succumbed to smoke inhalation.

God was truly watching over them.

“Mallory, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” he said. “I should have been suspicious of Finley from the beginning. I’m sorry.”

“We’re safe on a train headed—somewhere far away from the burning motel, so there’s no reason to apologize. You saved my life, Jonah. Twice. Three times, if you count forcing me to jump the train.”

The way she chose to put a positive spin on things was a personality quirk that surprised him. Time to take lessons from Mallory. This wasn’t the time to wallow in self-pity about being duped by his boss. Mallory had made a good point about the train’s destination—he had no clue where this train was headed. In the motel, when he’d first noticed the cargo train, he’d tried to do a search online to figure out where it was going. But the map wasn’t any help. There were dozens of trains using the same tracks going in both directions. It was like looking at a freeway and trying to figure out where each car was going.

“Jonah, I can tell you’re upset, and I wish you’d give yourself a break. Look how many miles we’ve already gone. The train is going at least fifteen or twenty miles per hour, right?” Once again, she sounded downright cheerful. “Your idea to jump the train was brilliant. We can ride for days if needed.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t afford to wait that long. It’s going to be dark soon and we need to get off before we lose all light. Keep an eye out for small towns, something not too far from the tracks since we have to walk.”

He felt her sigh. “You think the bad guys will be waiting for us at the end of the line, huh?”

“I think it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.” He made sure his tone was firm. No way was he allowing her to talk him out of this one.

“Okay. Well, then, what about that place over there?”

There were lights just up ahead. For a minute he hesitated, worried that this town might be too easy to find. But maybe Caruso’s men would assume they’d ride longer. After all, there were likely plenty of other towns along the way.

“Okay,” he agreed, loosening his grip on her so he could turn and face the opening. As he scanned the area, looking for the best place to jump, he could feel Mallory edging closer behind him. He angled backward, so she could hear him better. “Do you want to go first?”

“Not really.” She sounded less than enthused by the idea.

“There’s no easy way to get off the train, just like there was no easy way to get on. You’re going to hit the ground, so keep your muscles loose—don’t tense up. Tuck your head and roll, going with the momentum instead of fighting against it. Understand?”

“Tuck and roll,” she repeated faintly. “Got it.”

He hated the way he kept putting her in danger but he had to stay focused on what needed to be done. Soon, very soon, he’d have her someplace safe. “Okay, watch me.” For a moment he closed his eyes and prayed.

Please, Lord, keep us safe!

He opened his eyes and crouched low, so he was closer to the ground. Gauging the distance carefully, he sprang off the train like a broad jumper, trying to use his feet to break the force of impact on the ground before going limp and rolling, his momentum sending him through several rotations. As soon as he stopped, he jumped to his feet, sparing only a quick glance at his shirt. The open stitches in his incision weren’t going to heal if he kept doing acrobatics like this. Trying to ignore the ache in his side, he searched for Mallory.

He heard her cry out before he saw her. She’d apparently jumped right after he did—he caught sight of her rolling across the grassy embankment.

“Mallory! Are you all right?” He ran to her and dropped to his knees. He quickly ran his hands over her arms and legs, hoping, praying she didn’t have any broken bones.

“Lost—my—breath,” she wheezed, as she stared up at the sky. “But I’m fine.”

He dropped his chin to his chest. “Thank you, Lord,” he murmured.

“Amen,” Mallory added.

He jerked his head up to look at her. Was she poking fun at him? At God?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded. “I thought you were supposed to say
Amen
at the end of a prayer.” She shifted uncomfortably and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

He nodded slowly. “Yes. You’re right. But I thought you didn’t believe in the power of prayer.”

She shrugged and glanced away as if intensely interested in their surroundings. At least the open fields covered in high grass wouldn’t make her claustrophobic the way the cornfields had. “Honestly, Jonah, I’m so confused right now, I’m not sure what I believe anymore. I find it hard to accept that simply believing in God will actually help us, yet on the other hand, every time Caruso seems to get close, we manage to get away, relatively unscathed. Are we just plain lucky? Or is God really watching over us, giving us strength?”

“God is really watching over us and giving us strength, Mallory. I promise if you open your heart and your mind, you’ll be rewarded. And there’s no risk to believing, right?”

“I’ll try,” she promised. She groaned a bit and then frowned as she staggered to her feet. “Hey, why does the town look farther away now than it did on the train?”

“Hopefully the walk won’t be too bad.” The town seemed farther away now that they were on solid ground. “If you’re sure you’re not hurt, we’d better get going. The earlier we check into the motel, the better.”

“Why do you assume I’m hurt when you’re the one recovering from surgery? Maybe you should take a look, make sure it’s not bleeding.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He glanced down and checked his dressing beneath his shirt, trying not to grimace at the dampness of blood. He was glad blood hadn’t seeped onto his shirt since he didn’t have a change of clothes. A bloody shirt might cause the motel clerk to become suspicious. “I’ll get more gauze and tape tomorrow.” In the big scheme of things, his injury was the least of his concerns.

Mallory gamely fell into step beside him. When their fingers brushed by accident, he curled his fingers into fists to keep himself from reaching for her hand, forcing himself to put more distance between them instead.

He might be stuck in the role of Mallory’s protector, since he no longer trusted Finley—or anyone other than Gage for that matter—but he couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved.

Not if he wanted to keep Mallory alive and safe from harm.

* * *

Mallory stifled a yawn as they made their way toward the lights of the town. The adrenaline rush from jumping off the train had faded, big-time. She was tired and sore, and worst of all, she was keenly aware of Jonah walking beside her.

Just a few hours earlier, she’d begged him to let her stay. Now she’d gotten her wish, but they were on the run again. How could they investigate Caruso if they had to keep running? They didn’t even have Jonah’s computer anymore.

Jonah was holding himself distant now, as if this mess were somehow her fault, rather than his boss’s fault. But on the train, he’d held her in his arms and she’d felt safe with a man for the first time in her entire life. She could have stayed there longer. Forever.

She told herself to be grateful for what she had. At least he wasn’t turning her over to some strange cop. And he was probably just as tired and sore, too. No doubt his wound was bleeding again. Maybe after they both got some rest, things would look better.

When they finally saw the neon sign for the motel, she wanted to weep with relief. She couldn’t imagine sleeping outside with the bugs.

Jonah opened the door for her and then followed her inside. The desk clerk was an older, unshaven man with gray-streaked, greasy hair who leered at them as he chewed on the end of an unlit cigar. Jonah greeted him politely. “Good evening, my sister and I would like two connecting rooms, please.”

“Your sister?” Cigar guy smirked, raking a rude gaze over her. “Yeah, sure. That’ll cost you a hundred bucks.”

Jonah smiled, as if he wasn’t the least bit offended by the cigar guy’s leering expression. “We’d like to spread the good word of God to all His people. Maybe you’ll grant us a few minutes of your time?”

Cigar guy took a step back as if Jonah carried some sort of contagious disease. “Fine—ninety bucks, and don’t bother trying to convert me, Preacher Man. Leave me alone. Got it?”

“Thanks for your kind generosity.” Jonah handed over the cash and picked up the two room keys. “God be with you, sir.”

The clerk’s terse “Good night” ended the conversation.

She waited until they were safely outside. “I can’t believe you said that, Jonah. He almost refused to give us our rooms.”

“It’s a good cover, Mallory, and besides, I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you.”

For a moment she was stunned speechless. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans—why would the cigar guy notice her? Jonah’s anger on her behalf humbled her. When was the last time a man had stood up for her honor?

Never.

When they found their rooms, Jonah unlocked her door and flipped on the light. She flashed him a warm smile. “Thanks, Jonah, for everything.”

He stared into her eyes, and for a tense second, she thought he was about to kiss her, but he abruptly turned away. “Make sure your side of the connecting door is unlocked, okay?”

She tried to hide the deep stab of disappointment. She should be glad Jonah hadn’t tried to kiss her. “Okay.”

“Good night, Mallory.” Jonah unlocked his room and disappeared inside, closing the door quickly behind him before she could say anything.

* * *

Mallory took advantage of the facilities, enjoying the hot water against her sore muscles. But when she finally crawled into bed, she stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

She should be exhausted after running from a fire, jumping on a train, jumping off a train and walking for what seemed like miles. But her mind continued to race.

Should she try to pray? She closed her eyes and murmured the childhood prayer her parents had taught her, but saying the words as an adult felt silly, so she simply recited the Lord’s Prayer.

Sleep continued to elude her. Her stomach was painfully empty and she sat up, reaching for her purse. She had a couple dollars, and she remembered there’d been a vending machine just outside the small office.

Jonah wouldn’t like knowing she’d left the room, but the vending machine wasn’t that far and she’d never get any sleep if she didn’t eat something.

She pulled on her clothes, grabbed her room key and her money, and eased out the door. The area was only partially lit, as a few of the bulbs in the overhead lights were burned out.

She padded silently down the sidewalk and stood in front of the vending machine, trying to decide between the chocolate-chip cookies or the peanut-butter crackers. Finally, she bought both, smoothing the wrinkles from her dollar bills before feeding them into the slot of the machine.

“Well, now, looky here,” a deep, nasally voice drawled. She froze as the cigar-chewing desk clerk came up close, invading her personal space so that she shrank back against the vending machine, the unyielding metal frame hard against her back. “If it isn’t the pretty little preacher’s
sister.
”

The cigar stench lacing his breath made her gag and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as horrible memories of her past crowded into her mind. She opened her mouth but couldn’t seem to make a sound.

“Let’s say we have a little fun, huh?” He reached out to grab her and a flash of anger helped fuel her fighting instincts.

She swept her arm up to block his hand, knocking his arm upward as she kicked the lower part of his stomach, her aim true.

Stunned by her attack, he doubled over, his eyes bulging and grunts of pain gurgling from his lips. When he didn’t move, she grabbed her cookies and crackers from the bin of the vending machine and ran straight to her room.

There were several long seconds as she struggled to fit the key into the lock, but she managed to slip inside, locking the door securely behind her before she sank against the door frame, her whole body shaking with fear.

The entire incident had taken place with hardly any noise, since she hadn’t managed to yell the way her Tae Kwon Do instructor had trained her to do. But at least she’d gotten away.

She couldn’t believe cigar guy had come after her like that. She’d done nothing,
nothing
to provoke him.

For the first time in years, she was forced to consider the possibility that maybe she hadn’t done anything to provoke the sexual assault she’d suffered back when she was seventeen, either. After he’d assaulted her, Garrett Mason, the captain of the football team, had accused her of flirting with him. Of coming on to him. He’d told her that everything was her fault. And that no one would believe otherwise.

But now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe some men, like Garrett and cigar man, were just evil, no matter how a woman looked or acted.

Right now, she was grateful she’d escaped. She closed her eyes and prayed.
Thank You, Lord, for keeping me safe.